


Comfort

by CirrusGrey



Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: Episode Related, M/M, Short, Trailer Spoilers, background apocalyptic horror, foreground semi-fluff, i'm not ready for season five y'all
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-25
Updated: 2020-03-25
Packaged: 2021-02-23 13:15:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 630
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23312080
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CirrusGrey/pseuds/CirrusGrey
Summary: SPOILERS FOR MAG S5 TRAILER!!!A small moment, after the recorder turns off.
Relationships: Martin Blackwood/Jonathan Sims
Comments: 38
Kudos: 230





	Comfort

**Author's Note:**

> _Guess who's back on their bullshit!_ I say, as though I were ever off it.

There is a woman, in China, screaming. A man in Brazil sobbing. In America, a student sitting in silent terror.

Her friend just disappeared in mist. His neighbor is advancing with a knife. Their roommate came back from class, smiling and happy, but didn't their roommate have brown hair before?

Jon sits, eyes fixed on the shattered porcelain of the teacup Martin tried to bring him, and wonders why he didn't always see these things. It feels natural to see them, as natural as breathing.

He's trying to hold his breath.

"Jon?" Martin says. His voice is small in the cacophony of the world, but it stands out like a lit match at midnight.

"Yes."

"When you say it feels right..."

"I know it shouldn't. I wish it didn't. I'm trying to fight it."

Martin puts an arm around his shoulders, drawing him closer along the couch. "Thank you."

Jon nods, turning to bury his head against Martin's chest, shutting his eyes tight. It doesn't help.

That's a lie, though. It does help. Martin always helps.

"I'm sorry." The words are muffled by Martin's shirt.

"What for?" His voice is gentle. Even now, even after everything, his voice is gentle.

"For what I said. About comfort."

Martin makes a confused sound. "Why are you apologizing for that? That's- I mean, I hate it, but it's good information. Don't rely on comfort. Don't- don't sit around making tea hoping it'll save the world."

Jon hates the slight tinge of bitterness in Martin's tone, hates that he knows exactly why it's there, hates that he  _ doesn't  _ know how to take it away.

In London, the train tunnels are slowly constricting, shrinking in around the few people that remain underground, and he hates that he knows that, too.

"I love you," is the first thing he can think to say, and Martin makes that small, confused noise again, faint and wounded. "We can trust that," he continues, desperately, pulling his face from Martin's chest and clutching at his arms. "We can't trust tea, or, or warm blankets, or hot meals, or, or  _ anything, _ but we can trust that. Me and you. We can trust us."

Martin lifts a hand, gently brushing a strand of hair away from Jon's face, then returning to brush the tears from his cheeks.

"I know that, Jon. I never doubted it."

"I just-"

"Shh..." Martin carefully places a hand over his mouth; takes it away so he can press their foreheads together. "I know, Jon. I know. I'm going to miss taking care of you, is all."

Jon swallows down the tears that rise at those words. He  _ knows  _ how important it is to Martin to be able to care; to be able to  _ comfort. _ How much his acts of care and comfort rely on aspects of the external world they can no longer trust to remain comforting.

"I'm going to miss it too," he whispers. So much of what they are has been built on those small gestures. But not everything. Not the most important things. "I'm just glad you're here."

"Me too." Martin tilts his face, nudging Jon until he can press a quick kiss to his lips. "And I love you too. Even if I can't show it in the same ways anymore."

Jon laughs at that, a small and broken thing, and in Africa the sun is at its zenith but the sky is black as pitch and he presses his face into Martin's shoulder and there is  _ something, _ outside the research base in Antarctica and Martin is warm, and safe, and strong in Jon's arms and the world has ended and they are together. They are together, and Jon is trying to hold his breath.

_ This, _ right here and now, they can trust.


End file.
